


The Disappeared Ones

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Fairly graphic violence, fairly graphic bedroom scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-12 22:52:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14737322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: In a place like Brandonshire, everyone knew everyone else, sometimes for generations back.  Not everyone got along, of course, but they muddled by, and they knew what to expect from their neighbors.  So when Casino and Goniff disappear into thin air, the team from the Mansion uncovers a dirty secret long buried and the shock waves are ferocious.  Both the villagers and the team will come out of this with scars, but perhaps the guys will also find a new sense of belonging, of home.  And the heroine of the hour?  One huge grey-coated wolfhound named Estelle.





	The Disappeared Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a little graphic - first in violence, then (to a much less degree) in the bedroom scene. If it bothers you, please skip. Some (few) of my stories have a Gen version AND an X version. I usually post the Gen version, like this one, and if even that is a tad graphic, I do post warnings. Use your own judgement.

Meghada was still in her housecoat, feeding Estelle, her sister's giant wolfhound, while she made the phone call to Lynn Garrison. "Lynn, I hate to call so early, but, is Goniff there?" she asked feeling slightly foolish, but willing to appear that and more to relieve the uneasy feeling she'd woken up to. There was no answer for a moment, and Lynn asked, "Why?"

Now really feeling foolish, she paused, then just blurted it out, "I woke up thinking about him, feeling something was wrong, and, I know mother hen is HIS role, not mine, but well, I had to find out, be sure he was okay".

Lynn took a deep breath, "I was getting ready to call the cottage and see if he and Casino were there; I thought he might be, but I couldn't think of any reason Casino would be, but . . ." then she stopped, realizing she was babbling. "Meghada, we may have a problem."

Garrison had received a call from HQ; they had a prospective mission and he needed to head to London for a briefing. As always, he went to alert the guys to stay put, that they might be headed out; however, while Actor and Chief were where they were supposed to be, there was no sign of Casino and Goniff. He sent the two men looking for their team mates, and when they reported back empty handed, started the Sergeant Major on the same quest. He was starting to get angry now; he needed to leave soon, and he needed the assurance that his entire team was in place.

Lynn had walked into the room just as he started ranting something about irresponsible children, herding cats, and another one or two that really puzzled her, pulling one hand thru his blond hair in exasperation. She frowned as she heard the news, quietly checked with Actor and Chief, who confirmed the guys had been there when they'd all headed to bed the night before, and neither had given any indication of any planned excursions. The four were usually well aware of any mischief planned by the others, so the two remaining in the Common Room were already planning on where to search. The Sergeant Major confirmed he'd seen nothing of them, nor had his guards. She ignored her brother and his pacing, went to answer the phone which was insistently ringing.

Meghada might have been inclined to write this off as some of the guys' foolishness, at some other time, since they did tend in that direction rather strongly, especially this pair, but somehow it didn't feel just right, and then there was that feeling she had awakened to, the feeling that she had to find him.

"Lynn, I've not seen either of them; what's up?" When she heard the situation, no real sign of trouble, but Craig in an uproar, and the other two cons mystified, she offered, thought it wasn't really an offer, she knew, more a declaration of intent.

"My sister is visiting and she brought her wolfhound; she's trained to the scent, how about we give her a try? She hasn't had an outing in quite awhile, we might find the guys, and if everything's really alright, it'll maybe lighten the situation with us actually 'calling out the dogs' to find them."

Lynn, though apprehensive of how her brother was going to react to a huge hairy beast joining the search, agreed, and Meghada headed to the garden to let Caeide know they had a mission. The older sister thoroughly approved of Meghada's adoption of the lads, on more than one note. She knew part of it was in repayment to the debt owed Maeve and her man, but partly because of the deep affection, if not more, that her sister had developed for the small blond thief among them. She heartily approved of the changes she saw in one she was worried had been permanently damaged by the long run in harness to the Allied forces, and she attributed those changes to one Limey pickpocket. Then again, she thought to herself with amusement, she was favorably predisposed toward Limey pickpockets. She quickly changed from her dressing gown and they were off, leaving the youngest sister Coura there in case the guys showed up.

Lynn was right; Craig was not particularly surprised that his sister had brought the O'Donnell woman into this, but was totally flabbergasted at the huge grey beast accompanying her and her sister. Still, he let Chief show them to the room where the men slept, letting the big animal thoroughly sniff their cots, and the discarded clothing for each man, watched it sitting back to indicate she had them fixed in her memory.

"How will it be able to tell anything? The guys are here all the time, in the Mansion, on the grounds. Why would you think it'd pick up something special?" he asked skeptically. He thought this was a real waste of time when they should be searching, though admittedly he'd run out of ideas of where else to search. He'd called to The Doves, but they hadn't been seen there; he wanted to put off calling anywhere else; he really didn't want the military to know he'd lost two of his cons; that would not go over well!

Caeide glanced over at him, "She, Lieutenant, not 'it', she. And she's very well trained; she knows to look for the most recent scent, only from the last very few hours, unless I tell her otherwise."

The huge dog trailed down the hall, down the stairs and through to the kitchen, where she took her time sniffing around, stopping at three points, turning to stare at her handler, waiting for her acknowledgement. Caeide touched a finger to point out blood droplets at each spot, not much, but it looked like there might have been more that'd been wiped up. A stained cloth in the trash validated that theory; they were all on full alert now.

At the door the hound stopped, and went thru at a bound when Lynn opened it for her. She quickly made her way over to the kitchen drive, but then stopped, sat and looked back at Caeide. Caeide frowned, and said something to Meghada; it wasn't in English so no one else understood; then Meghada turned to the Sergeant Major who was watching the show with bewilderment.

"Sergeant Major, who has been on the grounds from, say midnight to now, other than us?"

"No one, miss, other than me and the guards and staff, of course."

"Gather them all together, I want to see every one of them, and if there's anyone missing, I want to know who." As he hesitated, looking over at Garrison, she repeated herself, this time in a lower, more urgent tone, obviously expecting to be obeyed, "now, Sergeant Major, I want them here NOW!" At a nod from Garrison, who had stood back frowning during the exchange, Sergeant Major Rawlins ran to gather the men in question. 

"Why?" he asked her, not angry anymore, just concerned; the blood stains had been the clincher that ended his doubt.

She replied, "Their scent ends at the drive which would seem to indicate they left in a vehicle; if they'd left driving a vehicle, surely your Sergeant Major would have known about it, yes? A vehicle would have had to go through one of the gates. The thought occurs that if they weren't in clear view, maybe they had help, or perhaps, considering the blood, persuasion? Someone perhaps not here, or perhaps someone who was here, left, and returned?"

While the Sergeant Major was gathering his troops, he listened quietly as she put in a call to Major Richards. "Kevin, this is Caeide. Listen, Kevin dear, I've co-opted your Lieutenant Garrison and his team. No, I can't tell you for what. No, I can't tell you when you can have them back, either, just be a good lad and let your people know they're not available, alright?"

A pause on her side, while she listened briefly to the argument she was getting, then, impatient, broke in, "Kevin, I've taken you on faith more than once, and I'd not like to have to remind you exactly what you owe me. Yes, I'll let you know when I can return them. Later."

He looked his question, and she shrugged, "it's complicated. At least this way no one'll be getting in your face about not being available for whatever they come up with."

The Sergeant Major was efficient, and soon his entire contingent of men was standing at attention along the drive. At a word from Caeide, the giant dog slowly walked up and down the line of nervous men. Well, Estelle did tend to make people nervous; that was one of the many things the O'Donnell women liked about her; in a lot of ways Estelle reminded them of, well, themselves. She stopped to look at one burly private, but a motion from the woman made her continue her search down the line.

When she reached the end, another motion led her back thru the line, back to the one man she'd paused in front of before. She looked up at him, not so very far up since she was so very, very tall, over three feet just at the shoulder, not counting the long neck and massive head, reached out that impressive head to sniff his clothing, his hands, moving down to his crotch, to the tittered amusement of his fellow guards.

The O'Donnell women were not amused; Estelle was well-trained, she'd not take time to do an idle crotch-sniffing while on the job, and polite enough not to do so when NOT on the job. There was scent there, as well as on his hands, his clothing, not just his own scent, possibly lingering arousal from the slight stain on the front, but the scent of one or more of the missing men. At a word from the older sister she moved back, considering, then repeated the whole pattern, clothing, hands, crotch, before sitting resolutely in front of him, a faint growl emerging from between her giant jaws. The man was sweating now, watching the dog, taking fast glances over to the Sergeant Major and the others.

Meghada was breathing more shallowly than usual; she, just like the wolfhound, was on the hunt.

"Your name, Private," she snapped at him as she moved over to join Estelle.

"Miggs, if you please, Miss!" he sounded out.

She turned to the Sergeant Major, quietly, "would this man have any reason to be in close personal contact, physical contact with either of our missing lads over the past few hours?"

He gave her a quick look, then studied the soldier in front of him. At a solemn shake of his head, accompanied with a "no, Miss, his post was at the far side of the grounds, he'd no reason to be closer," she ordered, "Sergeant Major, please bring Private Miggs to the library, we need to have a chat with him. Have your other men stand at rest, but don't dismiss them, please. If they are all here, the rest of them, I want them STAYING here."

He complied, though he wasn't happy about leaving the gate unguarded or necessarily about taking orders from a civilian, but Garrison nodded his approval, so he ordered an increasingly nervous Private Miggs ahead of him; the rest of the group followed, Garrison's group casting puzzled glances at each other. When they reached the library and the door was closed, the younger woman softly, not gently, but softly asked the Private, "why do you have their scent on you, Private, Casino and Goniff?"

"Miss? I'm sure I don't, Miss, I haven't seen them even."

She looked at him, and stepped right up into him, only a few inches separating them. He looked into her eyes and felt cold throughout his body; she lifted her lip and snarled softly at him, for all the world like that big dog might have. It was surely that snarl, the growl from her throat that caused it; he had to have imagined the rest, surely, but to him, her teeth seemed more pointed that they should be, and her hand, when she lifted it to touch his cheek, bore fingernails that felt more like sharp claws against his skin.

Sergeant Major snapped out at him, "Miggs, if you know anything about this, you best speak up now." 

"Yes, Miggs, now would be a good time to speak up. Where are they?" the woman whispered, pure ice in her eyes.

He thought briefly about his father, his brothers, how angry they'd be with him, but the woman in front of him scared him even more; he spoke with a rush. "At the farm, Miss."

"The farm?" she asked, glancing at the Sergeant Major inquiringly.

The Sergeant Major was looking at his Private with astonishment; he'd been sure this was all a waste of time. "He's local, Miss; his family has a farm not far from here; believe there's his father and a couple of brothers working it."

"Very well, the next question is 'Why?"

He tried to defend himself, "it's drunk we were, we'd never have thought of it otherwise," and stood there like that made whatever they'd done alright, like he thought she'd let it go with that. Caeide shook her head at his stupidity and watched her sister continue.

"That doesn't answer my question, does it? WHY!!" she barked at him.

He jumped at the sound, "we figured they could teach us, you know, about the safes and stealing and such; not so much money in farming, and things be dear, they do. Only, they weren't inclined to help when we came on them in the kitchen, laughed, said it warn't something learned in a day," he pouted, lower lip thrusting outward.

She shook her head in disbelief, "there was blood; what happened?"

"We knew they'd tell," he whined, sounding for all the world like a small child caught in mischief. "Dugie hit the dark one in the head with that iron bar he carries, took him down right smart; he was bleeding some; Davie and me took down the other one, and he got a mite tore up. We tied them and put them in the jeep and took them back to the farm."

"So, why did you attack them, take them to the farm? Why not tell them it was just a prank, a joke, what you were asking, and leave them be?"

He looked at her like she had said something rare foolish, "can't having them tell anyone we'd asked about it now, could we? Da said so. Da said we could drop them down that old mine at the edge of our fields if they wouldn't help, like we'd intended to do anyway after they'd taught us, and no one would know. Not like anyone'd come looking too strong, not for the likes of them."

She took a deep breath; she was going to take pleasure in meeting 'Da', she thought, and a look at her sister told her Caeide agreed. She doubted 'Da' would enjoy the meeting quite so much, though.

She felt the blackness at the edge of her mind, felt the beginnings of panic and forced it downward, hard, knowing it wouldn't be helpful; saw the shock and fury on the faces of the others, but continued, her voice tight, "and did you do so? Drop them down that mine? Private?"

"Well, not yet, Miss. We'd thought to but, well, seems like there wasn't any great hurry, and Da said we could have them to play with for a bit. Only, I had to get back on duty, so we tied them up figuring it'd be time enough when I get back there later after my shift."

She looked at him narrowly, "so they are unharmed, untouched, as of now, except for any damage done in the kitchen?"

He looked uncomfortable, not meeting her eyes, "well, as to that . . ." and she reached out for his face again. He backed away hitting the wall, breathing hard, eyes showing too much white, and started talking rapidly. "Well, we'd thought to have just a bit of fun first, but the one, Dugie must have hit him too hard, and he wouldn't wake up, and Da wanted him full awake first. The other fought us real hard, more than we'd a thought, and we had ta take tha piss outta him, you know, just a few lumps and such, nothing too much, we didn't hurt him too bad, we didn't, but he wasn't saying much by then, so Da said he wasn't ready either. We tied him up, tied them both up, took their clothes, and my brothers and me thought maybe ta have a fast go at the more awake one, but Da said no, he intended to be first, and rushing that way, that'd be a waste, it'd spoil it if we had to rush. Da just did a good feel up of them both, and let us do just a bit o tha same, kinda like, just to get in the mood and see what we had to look forward to, so ta speak," and the fool had the temerity to chuckle, "and enough ta let the one what was awake know what HE had to look forward to. Da said a day in the cold with naught on their skin, and no food and water and such, should soften them up a bit, but I left then." He looked over at the Sergeant Major, virtuously, "had to get back on duty, ya see."

"Will the others comply with your Da's word, to leave them alone til you get back?" she continued, wanting to tear his throat open with her nails, but wanting far more to find and bring in their disappeared ones.

Everyone held their breath while Private Briggs thought, then said, reluctantly, "well, probably," but as if he wasn't quite sure. "Dugie is the one with the real itch, and he really wanted the dark one, the one that hadn't woke up; ifn he wakes up tween now and then, Dugie just might get carried away. Da, he gets first time at the yella haired one, afore any of us; Da, he'll wait, says its better to think on it awhile before you get to it, adds to it, somehow, and usually Davie lets Da rule, at least most of the time, though he had an eye for that one as well; he and Dugie may play with them a bit afore then, probably will, but most like not really put it to em, not til Da says it's okay."

So it was Casino down and out, Goniff awake, hurt, but 'fighting them hard'. No one wanted to think about what the 'didn't hurt him too bad' or the 'may play with them a bit' entailed, not now, and it didn't sound like they could count on Dugie or Davie's restraint. They couldn't think on that, not when they had to focus on a rescue.

"Will they still be at the farm, or is there somewhere else your family may have moved them?"

"Oh, they'll still be there, at the big barn; that's where we always take them what we fancy."

They all looked at each other; so this wasn't the first time, wondering how many others had just disappeared. Meghada was heartsick; this was one of his biggest fears, she knew, that he'd be lost, just disappear, with no one finding him, or even searching for him, his Mum and aunt never knowing what happened to him; the other was that his team mates would need him, and he'd fail them. She knew him well enough to know he'd feel responsible for Casino, no matter how foolish that might appear on the surface. Seemingly Da and his insane sons were bringing his worst fears to reality. She'd see they paid for that, she most certainly would.

Miggs looked eagerly over at the Sergeant Major; now that he'd told this frightening woman what she wanted to hear, maybe the Sergeant Major would let him go. One look at the Sergeant Major's face, and the faces of the others surrounding him let him know that was not happening. Somehow leniency toward what appeared to be self-confessed serial abusers, serial killers if that mine shaft held what it seemed it might, just wasn't what anyone had in mind. He felt surprised, offended, somehow, {"Da never told me this could happen, being found out, and them being right upset, it seems!"} It just didn't seem fair, not over the likes of those two!

A quick look at the map, another few questions of the hapless Private, and their plans were made. Garrison didn't even bother wasting the time telling the women to stay behind; he knew they were going, and would go without him or his men if need be. Right now, he was more than a little glad of that.

***  
Goniff was shivering again. He was so thin he felt the cold more than most, and he hated being cold even at the best of times, and this was anything but. From the time of the unexpected attack in the kitchen of the Mansion, he had been in misery of one sort or another. Having guards come into the kitchen at all was surprising, they rarely did, and the suggestion Private Miggs made had been so off, he and Casino had just looked at each other and laughed, told them it'd taken them years to learn, it couldn't be learned in a day. Looking back, that might have been a mistake, now he thought on it.

Miggs and the other two had looked at each other and turned as if starting for the door, then without a sign, attacked. Goniff was shoved up against the counter and while pushing back immediately, swinging, saw Casino go down, bleeding from the head. He couldn't believe it, Casino was the toughest of them all, excepting maybe Chiefy, but then Chiefy had that knife of his.

He fought hard, keeping the one at bay for a few seconds, taking the breath to let out a yell trying to alert the others upstairs, but he knew it was a long way, and the old Mansion's walls were thick. A hard blow to the face from one of the attackers, and he stumbled, to be brought down by a resounding blow to his back from the other. He got a couple of swift kicks to his stomach for proving to be such a problem, they'd obviously not expected the small man to put up much of a battle, then he was tied, bundled up and dragged out to a waiting jeep and thrown in. In just a few minutes, Casino was tossed in on top of him, and the jeep moved out.

He had Casino's blood on him, in addition to his own from his torn lip, by the time they'd arrived at this battered looking barn, no animals, just old straw, dirt floors, old equipment hanging on the walls and stacked around the sides. His teammate was limp and unresponsive, even to the slaps the three men gave him in an attempt to bring him to. He himself was dumped unceremoniously on the ground, but was tied so tight, there wasn't anything he could do except yell at them, once they took the gag from his mouth. Things took a turn for the worse, which while he hadn't doubted they would, he really hadn't had the time to imagine what form that might take, when the older man came through the door.

"Da, they weren't of a mind to help, so we brought them back like you said. Ya want us to hit em in the head and dump em down the mine like the others?"

"Nah, we've time enough. No one'll know they're gone for some time, and even then, no reason for 'em to come looking here." He frowned at the three, "ya left no sign, right?"

"Right, Da, just like you told us."

"Well, doubt they'll look for em anyway, just get another pair from where ever they pulled these two."

Goniff felt even colder as the old man walked slowly over and looked at Casino, then at him. "Get the clothes off 'em, the both of 'em. I want a better look. Tie 'em proper, too."

Though Goniff fought them, there were the three, and it didn't take much time for them to have him stripped and tied to a set of posts and rails that looked like they been used before; the stained ropes had already been coiled and waiting on the ends. He watched helplessly as Casino was treated the same.

If he'd felt cold before, it was nothing like what he felt when the old man walked over to look at him, slowly carefully, then squatted down to run his hand slowly over his body, not roughly so much as considering, at least to begin with, taking his time over his face and neck, over the slender but well toned frame stretched out in front of him. That didn't last; now the man would pause, look up at Goniff's face, and dig his fingers in tight, hard as he could, chuckling at the way the younger man was trying to refrain from crying out and move a little further along before doing it again, and then again.

"That pale skin of his, it takes the marks real nice, now, don't it?" he said to his sons. The little pickpocket felt himself draw up tight as the investigation reached further and further southwards, the man first stroking him then squeezing him far too tightly, and he stopped breathing entirely when the hand reached around and roughly probbed him, getting hard dry fingers inside, testing his tightness, far more than enough to hurt him, enough for him to give out a deep reluctant groan.

"Yeah, this one, I like this one," the old man looked down at him, licking his lips, a cold smile crossing his gnarled face. The other three men each took their turn feeling at him, the guard taking the extra time to twist him over onto his stomach and rub up against him, with evident pleasure.

"Enough of that, you'll get your uniform all mussed," Da scolded, and indeed a small damp spot was already evident on the front of his trousers.

"What about the other one, Da, the dark one? Ya know, I like the dark ones best," one of the three urged.

"Ya, Dugie, I know, I know. Let's take a look," as Da rose to his feet and walked over to the unconscious Casino. As Goniff watched, helpless, the same ritual was played out, but with the old man not taking as much time or effort, no testing, no trying to leave marks; {"seems he really doesn't like the dark ones as well,"} Goniff found himself thinking, {"seems I'm the lucky one,"} bitterly. Then he thought about laying here watching the old man humiliate and hurt his friend, and he thought, {"maybe I am the lucky one, after all. Don't think I'd 'ave stood that very well. This might've been the easier."}

"Okay, this one'll do, too. Only, listen to me boys, not til he's awake; pretty much a waste otherwise. Your brother has to get back on duty afore they miss him; when he comes back, then we'll get to it. And no one does the other one, not til I've had my fill, you understand??"

"Sure, Da, but the dark one, what if he doesn't wake up by then?"

Sighing at the impatience of his sons, he gave in, "alright, if he don't wake up by then, then we'll go ahead. But we wait for your brother to come back before we start the real party, you hear me now. Alright, back up to the house, we'll talk this through, and you two still got chores to do. Let's get to it, now boys," slapping at them as they continued their stroking, petting of the unconscious Casino.

They left them there, Casino still and quiet in his bonds, Goniff shivering from the cold, from reaction, and from knowledge of what was coming. He knew no one would know where they were, would have any way of finding them, even knowing they were lost and needing finding. What if the Warden thought they were just out and about on some bit of mischief? It could be a long time before he'd even think maybe that wasn't it, unless he needed them real fast for a mission. He was pretty sure he and Casino didn't have even a short time, much less that long.

While he was sure the Warden would look for them, he knew it was a real possibility they'd eventually be written off as 'just taken off', as having found an opportunity to go their own way. He wondered what his mates would think, would they think the same, think he and Casino had just abandoned them? Would Meghada think the same, that he'd just left, without a word? She'd be fair disappointed in him, she would, thinking he didn't trust her, didn't care any more than that; he didn't like to think about that.

There was no hope their bodies would be found, given what they'd said about that mine shaft. His Mum and Aunt Mollie would never know what'd happened to him, that he hadn't just disappeared on them, nor Casino's family either. He worried about his Mum and Aunt Mollie; they depended on the little he could send them, it let them have the little extras; he didn't like the idea of them having to do without again.

He didn't like a lot of the ideas, words, phrases going thru his head, 'written off', 'abandoned', 'lost', 'no hope', 'disappeared'; they came out of his too frequent nightmares, one now coming to life. He wished Casino would wake up; no, Casino waking up would put his mate in more danger; but maybe Casino could think of something, he was better at that than Goniff ever would be, he himself wasn't a leader, a thinker, wasn't brave like the others were, never had been - his thoughts chased each other around his mind til he got dizzy, and lay his head back down in the dirt, to shiver in the cold.

His attempt to turn back over on his back had resulted in nothing but scraped wrists and ankles for awhile, til with one final effort, he managed to force himself slightly on his knees and with a gasp, flip to his side, then to his back. Since he'd twisted in the opposite direction as the guard had turned him, this made the ropes even tighter, but at least he could breathe some better on his back, than face down.

Casino woke up with a headache worse than any hangover he could remember, plus the feeling that someone had taken a cosh to the side of his head. His face felt sticky and he had trouble opening his eyes, the right one felt like it was glued shut. He was cold, why was he so cold? He took a fast look, {"Yeah, no clothes, that'd be the reason, alright."} He tried to sit up, found he couldn't; his arms and legs were bound, not together, but each separately, arms stretched above his head to a rail set between two posts against the wall, his legs to another like contraption set into the dirt. He had quite a bit of slack, but not enough to sit up. He struggled enough to realize everything was quite solid and he wasn't going to be able to pull himself loose, and all he was accomplishing was to give himself a bad case of rope burn. He didn't remember much, not yet, but he remembered he and the little Limey had been together when the lights'd gone out.

Looking around in the dim light coming in thru the loft openings, he spotted an outstretched body, bare like his, to his left, though the arms and legs seemed to be positioned differently.

"Goniff?" he managed to groan, turning his head to keep the wavering figure in focus.

"Casino? You awake? Coo, thought you were a goner for sure, it's been 'ours, mate!" a hoarse voice replied. Casino started to ask him just what the hell had happened, when a clatter and voices from outside told him someone was coming.

He heard Goniff hiss at him, urgently, "Casino, you're still knocked out, remember that! And bloody 'ell, you bloody well better STAY that way, ya 'ear me?? No matter what!" Figuring his friend knew more about what was what, seeing as Casino had been totally out of it, he slumped back down as if still dead to the world. 

From the footsteps, he figured there were two of them, Brits both of them, locals from the sound of it. Sounded like they were standing right next to him, while they nattered on, seemingly disappointed by his unknowing state, saying something about hoping he'd come around by the time baby brother gets back, or they'd just have to make do. One moved his shoe along Casino's side, then down his hip and leg, giving his leg a sharp kick. Trusting Goniff, he made no response, letting his body move with the kick.

Then, they moved away, and he heard ropes creaking, and them talking friendly like with Goniff, though he couldn't seem to make any sense of their words. Laughs, then the sound of a sharp blow, followed by a series of sharp inhalations from Goniff, separated by long pauses punctuated with little laughs from the two men. Then, what sounded like groans almost totally but not quite suppressed, but now with rustling, thrashing sounds like Goniff was moving around, pulling at the ropes trying to get away from them.

One of the two tittered in a high, uncomfortably foolish way, and said, "hey, watch this, Davie!" And then a harsh drawn out cry from his team mate, broken off abruptly as he tried to control it. Laughter, then "ah, don't tell me that hurt, little thief; if you can't take that, how you gonna take the real thing a little later? We're all gonna have a round with ya, you know, you and your pretty friend over there. Da says we've the time, no one's gonna come looking for the likes of you anytime soon. Too bad he's still outta it, otherwise we'd give him a little fun, too, maybe even get in an early round. Da only said we couldn't do you yet; he wants firsties with you, but he don't so much go for the dark ones like I do. Course Da said he had to be up and talking first, so looks like I gotta wait; but not too long, if he ain't ready by the time baby brother gets off duty, all bets are off."

He uttered that high pitched giggle again, from the sound slapped Goniff, hard, and then a couple of hard thuds, with accompanying grunts from the bound man, and the two of them left, slamming and latching the door behind them.

Casino waited a cautious minute, then opened his eyes to see his friend curled on the ground, as much as the slack in the ropes would let him, breathing hard, eyes squeezed shut, face tight.

"Goniff!?Goniff, what the hell??"

The thin blond lay twisting to the side, shuddering, and in a deeper rasp than usual, "gi' me a minute, Casino, okay?"

Casino saw spreading dark stains on the slender pale body, here and there, that hadn't been there before, and now caught the faint coppery smell of blood. Casino waited and watched, cursing silently and fervently to himself as the breathing slowed, and the squinched up face relaxed, though the frown remained, and hazy blue eyes opened and looked at him.

"Looks like trouble walked in on us this time, stead of t'other way around, mate. Whadda you remember?"

Casino didn't remember much, just going down to the kitchen for coffee, and having a trio of the guards walk in; that was about it. Goniff filled him in on what had happened in the meantime, though there were pauses that told him not everything that happened had been in that report.

"Their brother is that Private Miggs, big bastard started working up at the Mansion last month."

Casino tried to reassure the little Cockney, telling him the Warden and the others would be coming soon, but he knew better, and from the look in Goniff's eyes, so did he.

"Never expected to live thru this war, ya know, but didn't think to die like this, in bloody England, at the 'ands of what was supposed to be our own side. No one saw us taken, no one knows, no way to find us. Casino, can you get to that spring steel o'yours? Any chance it could cut thru your ropes?"

The spring steel he had learned to carry along side the inside of his jaw so many years ago had many uses, but mostly for picking locks; it didn't have much of an edge; still, considering what the options were, that is, none, he manuevered around til he could spit it out where he could get it in his swollen hands. He was working at sawing at the ropes, seeing one tiny strand after strand part, but way too slowly. He looked over at Goniff, who never took his eyes off him, but who was starting to fade, eyelids fluttering shut, breathing changing, before he'd pull himself back again. Those dark patches had spread, now covering much of his torso and upper legs, and there were corresponding dark splotches on the dirt floor.

"You get those ropes off, you get the bloody 'ell outta 'ere, Casino; there'll be no time for ought else; you can't fight the lot a them. Bring 'elp if ya can, but you get yourself outta 'ere first! Tell em, let em know. . ." He lapsed into silence after that, and Casino couldn't tell if he had said all he wanted to or could say, or if he had lost consciousness, he only knew he no longer got a response from his friend.

They parked the two jeeps as close to the property as they thought they could get without being seen. They'd left Miggs chained and locked in the cellar at the Mansion; any chance of him being of further use was outweighed by the knowledge that he could somehow give them away. They made their way in the direction of the farm, all the world as if they were on a mission across the Channel. Garrison had given the order that there was to be no killing, not unless absolutely necessary, and the Sergeant Major had looked appalled at the thought, and reinforced that. It was the women who looked at him silently, not agreeing, more as it they were trying to puzzle out what he'd said, like he'd said something incomprehensible. It really worried him that it wasn't just the O'Donnell women giving him that look, but his sister as well.

It was the Warden, his two remaining cons, Lynn, both O'Donnell women, the Sergeant Major, and the huge wolfhound, who now wore a massive spiked collar and matching harness/vest. She looked like something out of a nightmare, but Garrison decided he might be more afraid of the younger woman if he had to make a choice; the snarl he heard, he had originally thought to be from the dog, and when he told Caeide to keep her dog quiet, she gave him an ironic look with a raised eyebrow, "she's not made a sound, Lieutenant, I promise you," and he then realized where the sounds were coming from, that he'd heard that sound back at the Mansion earlier and that hadn't been from the dog either.

They saw the barn in the distance, and as planned, the young O'Donnell women quickly slid into total harmless mode, concealing their weapons, adding headscarfs, their entire manner of movement and pose giving forth an aura of harmless innocence. Garrison and Actor looked at each other and shook their heads in utter disbelief at the change. The dog stayed with Lynn, fully on the alert; no way could SHE look innocent and harmless.

While the men, with Lynn keeping close to Actor, circled into position, the two of them started chatting and walking leisurely, openly toward the barn. "And I saw those little white periwinkles along here, and just a bit further, saw the blue variety as well! You've just got to see them, they'd be just what you need for those new illustrations you're working on. And that old barn, don't you think it's just perfect for that drawing toward the end of the story? Let's take a closer look, I didn't get a chance before." Chatting companionably they neared the barn, and without a sideward glance, undid the latch and waltzed right in.

Once out of sight, and after a quick look showed no enemy in sight, they retrieved their weapons to closer reach, and their pose changed back to the extremely dangerous reality of who they were. A short whistle out the door let the team know no boggies inside, a second different whistle to let them know their missing ones were here. Her sister wouldn't have been able to send that signal, mouth gone dry at the sight in front of her. 

The scene was incredible. Both men stripped, bound, bloodied, unconscious at first glance, but as they realized it wasn't their attackers returned, Casino, at least, came alert fast. Goniff lifted his head to stare at them, but his eyes were dazed, and the women weren't sure he was really seeing them.

Casino lurched back into position with his spring steel, but Caeide moved forward quickly, "here, I've something that'll work a bit faster," and pulled out a 6" stiletto. "Yeah, that'll do the trick," he grunted as he tried to twist into a position to better conceal his nakedness.

She gave a reassuring but absentminded pat to his shoulder, "stop that, you'll dislocate something on top of all else. You've nothing I've not seen before, laddie." He didn't look quite so appeased at that as she'd hoped; she should probably work more on her 'being subtle'; she knew it wasn't one of her strong points, though maybe it was the offhand way she'd patted him, like he was Estelle. {"He actually looked a little offended"}, she thought; she wondered, {"what was I supposed to have done, make some favorable comment? I don't really know what the rules of polite conversation require"}, then grinning to herself on the inside, {"doubt polite conversation has any rules for what to say the first time you see someone's, uh, jewels, especially in a non-romantic situation"}.

She looked over at Meghada who was dealing with Goniff's ropes with a similar knife, leaning close, putting her hand on the back of his shoulder as he curled into a ball, arching his neck, groaning softly. Somehow, from the expression on her sister's face and that sound, she didn't think modesty had much of anything to do with his curved posture. Lynn and Garrison moved in thru the door just then, with the Sergeant Major close behind.

"Actor and Chief are standing guard; they'll signal if the others come in sight," Garrison said, while Lynn took in the sight and started looking around for their clothes. She found them in two separate heaps, and brought them to their sides.

Caeide started to help Casino, when he grunted and told her, "able to dress myself since I was three, sister." She gave a little chuckle, held up her hands as if in surrender, and turned back to her sister, telling Lynn, "his eyes look funny, better check his head, I know it's a thick one, but that's one hell of a gash!"

Any sign of amusement left from the stubborn indignation of the surly safecracker disappeared when she got a better look at the man her sister was trying to help into his own clothes. "Open knife wounds, shallow gashes here and there and a couple of deep punctures in his thigh, along with whatever other damage there is, and there seems to be aplenty. The cloth is going to stick badly once we get him dressed. We've no way to tend him here. He's gonna start bleeding worse when we start moving him around; we need to get him out of here quickly."

Goniff was moving, trying to assist them, but he wasn't making much headway. There truly was more damage than just the few long cuts and punctures showing on his body, the women could see, bruises and reddened grazes across his face and body, his split lip, and what appeared to be finger imprints, blackened and purplish over much of his lower torso and upper legs, front and back, and his hands and feet were swollen, wrists and ankles torn from fighting the ropes, enough he'd need a lot of help getting out of here. 

The Sergeant Major was beside himself; he'd been a career soldier, but not exposed to anything like this, mostly it'd been guard duty, records, motor pool, that sort of thing. From the looks of it, what it seemed these men had been through, when he thought that it was one of the men under his command, someone who was supposed to be guarding these men who was responsible, it made him feel sick inside. He had failed in his duty to them, somehow, though how he could have known or suspected anything like this, he was sure he didn't know.

He was also embarrassed and upset that these young women would be here with these naked men, and wanted to say they should stand aside and let them deal with them, but somehow he realized that no one would listen to him anyway; none of them were acting like they were shocked innocent misses, either, more like those nurses up at the hospital acted, though the girl from the cottage wasn't quite so successful at appearing detached as the other two were trying to be, but he'd bet any money it was anger he was seeing, not embarrassment or anything like.

Garrison was torn; he needed to get his men out of here, but they were in no condition to move on their own, and if they met up with the three local villains, it could get dicy, especially with the goal of not killing anyone. He was starting to rethink that edict after he got a good look at his men, though, especially at Goniff, the damage he could see, the bruised look in his eyes. He took stock, he had three able bodied men, plus himself, three strong women, two injured men, possibly facing three men, if they choose to attack, and a considerable way to the jeep.

The Sergeant Major had a solution, "Lieutenant, there's an old carting road what leads from where we left the jeeps to just a couple hundred feet from 'ere; it's a bit roundabout, and the vehicles will take a bit of damage, I'm sure, but it'd be easier on the lads than trying to bring them back the way we came. We couldn't 'ave used it getting in 'ere, too easy to spot, too much noise forcing the way through, but now that don't matter so much, does it?"

Garrison eagerly agreed, and sent the Sergeant Major to get Chief and for them to get the jeeps, letting Actor know the situation on their way out, telling him to join the others in the barn. Once he arrived, Actor was put to watching from cracks in the loft walls. Lynn climbed up and filled him in on the situation, the condition of their friends, at least what she could make of it as of now.

Garrison moved over to crouch beside Casino, and softly said, "Okay, Casino, report," and Casino laid it all out for him. While it was embarassing to admit he'd been laid out with one blow back at the Mansion, it was hardest for him to admit what he'd had to do, play unconscious while Goniff was being tortured, abused; both he and Garrison knew it had been the only sensible thing to do, but that didn't rid him of the feeling he'd let his friend down.

Garrison laid a firm hand on his shoulder, "Casino, Goniff knew what the score was, he'd been awake, knew they were holding off on doing too much damage with him til later, but you'd be fair game as soon as you were awake. He was trying to buy you some time, to find a way to get you out. He knew what had to be done, he told you and he expected you to listen. He did what he always does, on a mission or back here, he looked out for his team mates; he'd have been really upset with you if you blew that."

Casino looked down, and then looked up into Garrison's understanding eyes, "yeah, I guess. Ya ever wonder, though, at some of the things he does, all the while he keeps saying he's a coward?"

The Lieutenant gave a rueful grin, "yeah, more than once," looking over at the now khaki-clad little pickpocket curled up on the ground.

The three locals showed up before the jeeps arrived, unlatching the door and walking in, to be greeted by their victims and a silent, menacing crew of their very angry friends. The older man started to jerk the shotgun in his hands up to fire, only to have it torn out of his grip and thrown aside by the tall Italian, who had spotted them from his position in the loft while they were still several hundred yards away, letting the team get into position. The two middle aged men accompanying him, his other sons presumably, big hulking brutes, faced Garrison and the younger of the O'Donnell women.

Garrison started to move forward, but a sound from the woman made him glance over, "switch, that one's mine," came out as more a growling hiss than as words, and he wondered, but moved to the new position without question. Lynn and Caeide each took up a position beside their injured friends on the ground, both of whom now were also holding revolvers given them by the two redheads, the O'Donnell's tending to go with knives when given the choice. Lynn had both, revolver in hand, knife in a sheath ready to use if need be. They were backup; they doubted they'd be needed, though, from the expression on the faces of the others. The wolfhound sat poised between the two men, alert, just as obviously on guard.

The older man went down to a sharp blow from Actor, who pulled him out of the way and quickly tied him up with the bloodstained ropes that had been used on Goniff; it seemed fitting. Garrison was doing well against his choice of the brothers, til he stumbled over a low lying wagon tongue extending out from a trolley pushed up against the wall, and went down. The man gave an evil grin and yanked a shovel off the wall and aimed it at Garrison's head, and then looked down with wide eyes at the knife in the middle of his chest. Garrison looked around for Chief, before realizing Chief wasn't there; he'd figure out who threw that knife later. Checking the man now on the ground beside him, realizing he was very dead, he turned to check on Meghada and the other brother.

Meghada was thrust back against the wall, with the other man pressing her up against a sharp multi-pointed plow attachment of some kind, grinning, stepping in where his face was right up to hers, certain of his triumph; she let out a eager growl and arched her neck, baring her teeth, ready to do what she'd intended ever since she'd caught Goniff's scent, his scent, the smell of his blood, so heavy on this one, much more so than on the other. No matter what Garrison had said, there was no way this one was leaving this barn alive, whatever the immediate fate of the other two.

At a fast hand signal from Caeide, Estelle moved out and sprung, hitting the man, driving him away; he screamed, then gurgled, and it was over. Garrison moved over to the woman, as she eased herself off the sharp spikes, glancing over her shoulder as she did so, "that's going to leave an interesting scar," she smirked up at him. Seeing the four straight lines of multiple punctures forming a grid, blood starting to ooze rapidly through her shirt, he had to agree.

Then she and Caeide both walked over to the wolfhound, standing over the limp figure on the floor. Garrison followed and looked down; the man's eyes were open, staring in horror, his throat was gone, just open flesh and lots of blood with a deep chunk just missing. The others made their way over as well, including Casino, and Goniff, with help from Lynn. Casino looked a little sick; Goniff just looked icy, remote, "couldn't 'ave 'appened to a nicer bloke," he said in a quiet voice and turned to walk slowly away, with a steadying hand from Meghada.

The Sergeant Major and Chief had just arrived and were standing looking down as well. "Can't blame the dog, just doing what she's trained to do, I suppose, but the authorities might think differently," offered the Sergeant Major, uneasily.

Caeide, with what was meant to be a smile said, "don't worry about it, Sergeant Major, Estelle is Clan and under our protection; your authorities will find they have nothing to say." She paused, looked thoughtfully over to where her sister was standing next to Goniff now, feet braced, giving her support to his wavering form standing, leaning his body, his head against the wall, and said, "actually, I thought it better this way. I could tell that one was going to get his throat torn out; better it was by Estelle, easier to explain," smiling around at the others.

Garrison thought later, remembering her selecting the man, the bared teeth, the look on the younger woman's face when she was only inches from the man's throat, {"I don't doubt that statement, not for a moment, just like I don't have to confirm with Goniff that this one was the major actor in that scene with him. I don't know how she knew, I just know that she did."}

There was another tense moment, when Goniff had to pass the old man being dragged to his feet. He stopped, his hand went to the revolver tucked into his waistband, caressing it, and his breathing quickened, and Garrison saw a shiver overtake him. Garrison moved in quickly, laying a restraining hand on his arm, "no, Goniff, he's tied up, he's helpless,"; blue eyes turned up to him, eyes filled with anger, with the pain he was trying so hard not to give in to, "so was I, Warden," and with a look over at Casino, unsteady on his feet, being supported and guided by Actor, "so was Casino." Still, he let Garrison lead him past, help him to the jeep, with Meghada on his other side.

Getting their men back to the jeeps, back to the mansion; getting in that new doctor, Dr Riley, who seemingly had some connection to Meghada's Clan with all his talk of a Friends and Family list, that took front burner. Sergeant Major had collected the sole surviving attacker from the barn, as well as the chained one from the cellar at the Mansion and took them off; he and the local authorities went looking for that abandoned mine, and came back sick at what they'd found. Seemingly quite a few missing persons cases would be closed, once identification could be made, some going back probably for many years. 

She stayed at the Mansion that evening, night, through the morning, Meghada did, with her sister and Estelle headed back to the cottage. Dr Riley tended them both, Goniff and Casino, Lynn and Meghada having been shoo'd out by Riley. The young redhead sat in the library with the others, having coffee, thinking who knows what, til the Sergeant Major returned to make his report, hearing, knowing how close run it had been. Riley appeared shortly thereafter, to give a short, and from the occasional hesitations, highly edited report on the injuries suffered by the two men.

They started to talk to her, several times, but the closed in look on her face made them hesitate; it was as if she was waging some internal battle, one they hesitated to distract her from. Coura arrived, having been sent by Caeide; "she says I'm to sit with the one, while you sit with him," she told her older sister with concern in her eyes, receiving only a nod in return. Mrs. Riley appeared too, in answer to a call from her husband. 

Lynn was sent off to get cleaned up, to get nourishment, to rest, along with the men. Riley wasn't surprised to see the O'Donnell women appear at the door of the common room, or to see each of them settle on the floor by the two occupied cots, Coura by Casino, Meghada by Goniff.

Mrs. Riley busied herself with the odds and ends and went to make another pot of coffee, sure to be needed. She tarried a bit, talking to Garrison and the others, then made her way back, stopping just outside the door of the common room, to listen to the soft murmur coming from Meghada, from where she was sitting crosslegged, her hand resting lightly on his, her head resting on the edge of the cot, turned to the side, watching his still face. Chief came up behind her, along with Garrison and Actor.

Mrs. Riley whispered, "tis long since I've heard the old Celts spoken so sweetly and so well; and the words just as sweet as the voice," with a fond sigh.

Actor, also keeping his voice down, "she cannot imagine he would understand what she is saying; why not in English?"

Mrs. Riley shook her head, "some things are just harder to say in English, it's a cold, hard language it is, the old tongue suits better sometimes, and," with a knowing nod, "sometimes a body understands more than you'd think."

"What's she saying?" Chief asked in a voice just as soft.

She just shook her head again, gently and with a kind smile that took any offense out of her refusal, and turned to walk away. She looked back at the room, smiled again, and they could barely make out her whispered words, "I wonder if he knows?" and went about her business. The men looked at each other, and headed back to the library, each thoughtful, looking back in the direction of the room where their two team mates lay, where the two women sat in attendance.

Actor gave a hint of a chuckle, and the other two looked at him in question, wondering just what he might have found amusing in this horrifying day; "I was just thinking about her file, and what name was written in it," with a rueful shake of his head.

Garrison frowned, "Her file?" as if he hadn't known, shouldn't have guessed that the men had seen it, "Dragon? Her code name?"

Actor nodded, "Oh, that one fits well enough, we have all seen that! It is the other one I was thinking of."

Chief nodded too, a rare smile crossing his face, "Ice Queen," and the men exchanged a long look, an understanding smile, thoughtfully looking back in the direction of that soft voice, murmuring those soft words, saying things that "are just harder to say in English."

The phone call to Major Richards had taken the heat off; the mission they were being considered for had been handed off to another team, and it was more than three weeks before they were sent out again. Of course, that was partly because Caeide didn't report that she had 'released them' until a good two weeks and more after they were back at the Mansion, putting off the Major's inquiries with a firm, "I told you I'd let you know, Kevin, now let me be!"

She was gone, now, she and Estelle, headed back to Haven. Meghada had asked her to talk to their father about getting a young wolfhound of her own, with similar training as Estelle, once she completed her contract; she soon hoped to be in one place long enough to be able to have such a companion. She didn't say it out loud, but they both knew, she now wanted to have that edge, should she need to look for Goniff, for any of the team, again.

Lynn, the Warden and the others had filled in the two as to what happened after they'd been taken captive. They heard about the contributions of everyone involved, everyone looking for them, from the Mansion and from the cottage, Meghada bringing her sister and the big dog Estelle and her scenting abilities into the search, the intervention of Caeide with Major Richards, Meghada forcing Miggs to tell them where his family was holding them, the Sergeant Major helping throughout it all. They heard the whole story. They'd accepted the sincere, but uncomfortable, apologies of the Sergeant Major for not realizing, not stopping Private Miggs; they agreed, truly, he couldn't have known. 

The village, while not knowing, not needing to know, all the details, DID know that the cons and the Garrisons, and the O'Donnells were responsible for arrests of old man Miggs and his one son, the deaths of his other two sons. At first they were incredulous at the possibility that the family they'd known for all these years could have done such things as they were accused of, but when the bodies from the mine started being identified, when they heard the names of the local lasses, the young men, the small ones who'd disappeared from their village through the years, and the names, so many names, of others from the surrounding areas, and of the yet unidentified bodies of others, all going back to when the old man must have yet been a very young man, they came to a dazed understanding of what they had been living beside.

Some wept, remembering those who had fallen into the hands of these monsters unaware. Others, at night, looking around at their loved ones, their young men and women, looking at the children in their beds, they shuddered with what could have been; they knew they owed a debt of thanks to those who'd come to stay at the Mansion, and at the cottage. From then on, though not much was said, a sense of acceptance, of belonging was raised around, encircling those in the Mansion and in the cottage, and woe be to any outsiders who thought elsewise.

Old Howie, the handyman, said it best over a pint at The Doves. 'They be one of us now, like as not; wouldn't mind a bit if they decided to stay on, after, I mean. In fact, we'd be the better for it, now wouldn't we? Already are, ain't we?' the garrulous old man demanded, to a general agreement among the regulars. Garrison came to hear of that conversation, and made sure the guys did also. It brought a thoughtful look to more than one face, and suddenly the village became a little less like a place where they'd come to do a job, a little more like a home, especially to those men who had perhaps never really had a home, or for whom home was long lost. 

Casino and Goniff had a long talk, well, as long as two taciturn men not used to dealing with their emotions could have. That means, it probably lasted a good half hour, over a couple of drinks, with many long pauses and a few dead silences; probably a good five minutes, no more, of actual words. Still, it was enough.

Goniff had relieved Casino's feeling of guilt over being unable to stop the abuse, affirming what Garrison has said, that "I'd 'ave been right pissed if you 'ad mucked it all up by trying to interfere, getting yerself 'urt worse."

Casino had relieved Goniff's feeling of guilt over not having been able to protect Casino when he went down under that first ferocious blow, "don't expect you to protect me, ya dumb Limey, not when it's just fists, and there weren't any reason to think it'd be anything else, especially over here. Just bad luck he got me with that sap first off, that's all." They were in charity with each other again, so much so that it was just a bit uncomfortable.

Just to bring things back to normal, Goniff pulled out his loaded dice and let Casino catch him using them, Casino had chased him around the room and onto the mantle, throwing the dice into the fireplace, while the others laughed; yes, things were back to normal there. If there was a new closeness, a new depth to their friendship, well, that was just to be expected.

Casino had recovered from the concussion he'd received, and the long gash on the side of his head, though sore, was healing nicely. He'd not been too happy about having a strip of his hair shaved away, but the doctor hadn't let himself be argued out of that.

Goniff was still sore from the various gashes, and two knife punctures to his thigh, and moving stiffly, not his usual quick self; the bruises, internal and external, were fading, and the rope burns disappearing from both men. He was sincerely hoping the other effects would disappear soon too! Dr Riley had said they would, it would just take a bit of time.

Goniff found himself reliving the feeling of hopelessness, though, of being lost and knowing he'd not be found, that there was no way anyone could find him, maybe wouldn't even bother trying to find him; the nightmares were bad enough, but they all had nightmares, and he expected them. What he hadn't expected was that the feeling would carry over into the day, into odd moments of panic when he was doing nothing in particular. He worried how it would affect him on the Missions; he'd always had the fear of ending up alone, not finding his way home, more so since the missions where he'd been separated from the others and had ended up in the hands of the Germans or, that one time in Lisbon, both the Syndicate AND the Germans; he didn't want to put the others in danger because of his fears.

But then, even while he remembered those feelings of being lost, being abandoned, he started to remember more clearly that first moment when he saw them come inside the barn, first the two women, then the others, how he'd felt when he knew they'd been found, that help had come, even though no help had been expected. He remembered what Lynn and the Warden had told them, how even though there'd been no obvious signs of what had happened, of anything being wrong, they'd each started the search in their own way, all of them; how there was no hesitation, only immediate joining in the search, total committment to finding them and bringing them home.

And, in a quiet whisper, her head against his, Lynn had tried to express what she knew to be true, what she knew he needed so desperately to believe, "you are ours, both of you, family, we're not just going to let you disappear off somewhere" and with a gentle smile, "and that's not just us here at the Mansion, you know, it's true down at the cottage as well. Seems she felt, she knew something was wrong right from the start, even before we did, and had already started looking for you."

That night, there were no nightmares, and even when they returned in the coming nights, they ended differently, not in death, not in being lost forever, not in despair, but with help arriving, warm hands, gentle touches, soft voices bringing aid and comfort. 

Goniff made a trip down to the cottage a few days later, in the late afternoon. For safety, he'd told Chiefy where he was headed, just in case; he thought to himself that he was probably going to be doing that for some time now, just for safety sake. The others seemed to understand that and take it in stride; he hadn't had any teasing about it.

He came over the wall, perhaps a bit more cautiously, more slowly than usual, and tapped at her kitchen door. She opened it, looked at him with a gentle welcoming smile, and stood back for him to enter. His mobile face was expressionless for once, and she went still inside, wondering. He walked through into the living area, turned, watching her as she followed him, stood in front of him. She searched his face, his eyes, and then, unable to stop herself, she lifted one hand, laid the backs of her fingers to his cheek.

"Are you alright then, laddie?" she asked hesitantly, swallowing deeply.

"Needed to say a few things," he said firmly, resolutely. She looked at him questioningly and nodded encouragingly.

"First, need to know the address of your sister; seems a Thank You is in order, and maybe something really nice for that big grey beastie."

She smiled at him, "that can be done, easy enough," and waited. He looked at her, frowned, then turned away and went to stand at the window; she'd have thought he was looking out, except these windows were always shuttered against overlooking by any passersby. She waited, and finally he swallowed audibly and in an achingly deep, fractured voice, "you came after me," as if that was the most unexpected, most wonderous thing he'd ever heard of.

She took a deep breath, walked over behind him, laid her hand ever so lightly on his tense shoulder, and told him the truth he needed to hear, the truth she needed to admit to him and to herself, "I always will."

When he turned and looked at her with a quiet desperation through his sandy lashes, whatever words he wanted to say, whatever he needed to ask, caught somewhere inside, unable to escape, she knew she was utterly and truly lost. She sighed, gently laid her forehead in the curve of his neck and felt his arms close ever so cautiously around her, and she knew she was home. There would still be many steps, no doubt, many things to resolve between them, but if there had ever been any doubt in her mind, it was gone. She breathed him in deep, deep enough that even without Estelle, she thought she could find him, anywhere, anytime. Deep enough that he was part of her now, and always would be, this seemingly simple yet unendingly complicated man she loved so. Mask upon mask upon mask upon mask . . .

He tried to settle into one of the big armchairs; he really wanted her next to him like they'd done once before when he'd comforted her through a bad night, but he knew before he could even reach for her that for now, it wouldn't work. He ached in too many places, there was no way he could rest where he could hold her close, not and either of them be at ease; he wasn't sure he could find a comfortable position there even for himself. 

She watched, reading the dawning awareness, the disappointment in his eyes, and reached for his hand, shaking her head with a soft smile. "You need to rest, laddie, and someplace better than that, come along," and she drew him into her bedroom and to the bed. At her direction to get comfortable and lay down, he removed his boots and, hesitating, with a cautious glance at her, his tunic top, leaving him in his trousers and undershirt.

With a smile, she told him, "find a comfortable position and get settled," and he did, sighing, watching her walk out of the room, still needing her close but knowing while in the sitting room, in the chair, he could perhaps ask that, here in her bedroom, on her bed was different. He closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing, trying to let being here be enough. He heard her on the phone, soft voice telling someone, maybe Lynn, that he was here, with her, safe; seeming he wasn't the only one with some residual uneasiness.

She was back now, gathering a blanket from a chest along the wall. She laid it over him to the waist, slipped off her shoes, and asked him, "do you want me at your front or your back," and his eyes widened to stare at her, swallowing deeply. "We could both use a nap, laddie," and he patted the space in front of him, not really believing she meant it.

She smiled at him once again, settled down in front of him under the blanket, and they shifted together til they were arranged to their mutual comfort and satisfaction. She touched her lips oh so lightly to the tousled blond head at her shoulder, and with one hand, she pulled the blanket up over them, and they slept, both without nightmares for the first time in several days. He woke in the pre-dawn, to the feel of her lips on his forehead, and feeling her moving away. "It's early, go back to sleep," she whispered, and it seemed a fine idea, so he did. Later, he woke to the smell of coffee and breakfast on the stove. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the gentle clattering noises coming from the kitchen, seeing the light drifting in through the curtains, and felt at peace, at home, for the first time in perhaps forever.

He was disconcerted to realize he was sporting a full morning erection; he hadn't since the Miggs incident, only a few recent half-hearted attempts at one and right painful at that, neither up nor down and nothing to do about it but let it wear itself out on its own as sore as he was, and though he was glad to see it return properly, of course, this wasn't the time or place for it, he thought.

It was ironic, considering what that Doctor Riley had said, when he'd asked him, slightly embarrassed, "Don't worry so; when it's time, you'll know. When you wake in the morning, look down, eye to eye so to speak and can honestly say, "Well, good morning to you, it's good to see you so hale and hearty, and a fine morning it is too," rather than saying, "Oh, no! Not you! Can't you just lay down and go back to sleep??" then you'll know you're ready. Til then, just stop worrying!"

Well, his first thought had been 'Good Morning', but the circumstances seemed to say 'Oh No!'. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't! Furthermore, he couldn't seem to make it go away; he'd visited the small loo at the back of the bedroom, thinking that'd do the trick, but no such luck. He wanted to touch himself, bring himself relief, but couldn't bring himself to do that, not in her bed, certainly not with her in the next room, especially with this being the first time in awhile, after what had happened, and not being so sure how it'd go. He let out a small frustrated groan, cursing the timing.

He heard footsteps then she was beside the bed, frowning gently down at him, "what is it, laddie?"Then she realized, and hesitantly, like she might be overstepping, she put one knee on the bed and leaned toward him.

"Something I could help with, maybe," with the tiniest smile on her lips, and even more of one in her eyes, and his blue eyes went blank with shock, then perhaps a bit of anticipation, and he swallowed noticeably, without thought spreading himself, arching himself slightly in reaction to her words.

She lowered herself to face him, now side by side with him, and reached out her hand to slide it into his. "Show me," and laid both their hands on him, through his trousers. He clenched tightly and groaned, more loudly this time, and she bent to touch her head against his as their hands moved gently together, stroking slowly. Before long, he'd reached his other hand to undo the buttons of his trousers, and moved their joined hands inside, carefully, watching to be sure she was alright with the notion, ready to stop if she wasn't; the sensation was beyond anything he could imagine, knowing it was her, and they were here, and then his thoughts faded away, aware only of her touch on him. He stopped thinking, lost in the touch of just her hand, his own now withdrawn and clenched at his side, hers holding him, moving on him, and finally it was too much, or maybe just enough. He arched his back, his neck, as the release hit him, half coming up off the bed in his pleasure, crying out hoarsely.

She watched him, shaking inside, hot and wet herself, knowing this was not her time, but his, and she lowered her head again, while he was still caught up, unknowing, to press her lips against the hollow of his throat, tasting of him gently. When he stilled, she eased her hand back to the surface, sticky, dripping now, and grew dizzy at his scent. She eased off the bed, getting a damp washrag from the adjoining loo, and brought it back to him, taking the time to rinse and dry her hands as well.

"Breakfast is ready," she smiled at him, leaving him starting up at her, again, with disbelief in his eyes at what had just happened.

"All this and breakfast too?!" he couldn't help himself from saying, with a familiar smirk, to be greeted by her joyous laugh at seeing her Goniff back again, "yes, and breakfast too, love." And he laughed too, hearing her call him that for the first time, at least for the first time in a language he knew.


End file.
